


The Price of Loyalty and Betrayal

by Draycarla



Series: Bottom!Shiro Week 2020 [6]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Against a Wall, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Biting, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Bottom Shiro Week 2020, Celebrations, Cheating, Drunk Sex, Emotional Hurt, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Light Choking, M/M, Medical Experimentation, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Body Modification, Oral Sex, Past Keith/Thace, Past Relationship(s), Rimming, The Sheith is unhealthy and delicious, Unhealthy Relationships, past ulaz/shiro
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:35:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25787431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Draycarla/pseuds/Draycarla
Summary: After Keith and Thace betrayed Shiro by going behind his back over the past deca-phoeb, Shiro finds himself in search of a new Lieutenant with help from Haggar. They can both agree someone from within her own ranks would be best.Hepta, looking for a chance to move on from his current role, gets the position, and finds himself having to work through his Commander's obsessive and possessive behaviour around his damn pet, that's only gotten worse to the point Haggar's concerned he'll make reckless mistakes. That cannot happen. Shiro, however, has his own paranoia around Hepta's motivations, but it comes at the detriment of building the loyalty he so desires.After a successful mission to bring down a faction of rebels, Hepta takes the lead and makes his damn Commander come out, if only for a night.
Relationships: Haggar & Shiro (Voltron), Haxus & Hepta (Voltron), Hepta/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Series: Bottom!Shiro Week 2020 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1861588
Comments: 13
Kudos: 20
Collections: Bottom Shiro Week 2020





	The Price of Loyalty and Betrayal

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys! A day late, so sorry about that, but I'm finally done and happy!
> 
> The Sheith carries the emotional weight and pain in this fic, whereas the smut is with Hepta which is barrels of fun. I liked writing these two a lot under new circumstances. I also have NOT tagged for Main Character Death, because the characters mentioned 1) don't make an appearance, 2) were minor characters in the show, and 3) it's just mentioned, not expanded into the nitty-gritty like I could've done. This is ultimately a bit painful, but WE ALL LOVE A BIT OF PAIN, I'm sure. Otherwise, this fic takes place a year after the last one, and progresses over about...maybe 6-7 months? So there is time skips.
> 
> Day 6 prompts were: biting, against a wall (or door), choking, teasing, and celebration. 
> 
> It is a bit dark, but I hope you enjoy!

“Why do I keep making the same mistakes over and over again, Keith?” Shiro pulled him up by the collar, and Keith had to face those cold eyes again. So close, they were _so_ close to escaping, but Keith hadn't been as aware of his surroundings as he thought, and now Thace was dead, and it was all his fault.

“I d-don't know-” Keith swallowed back down the rising bile.

“You don't know?” Shiro snorted, tugging him so sharply the wall restraints snapped taut. “You know what I don't know, Keith? Why I should even _keep_ you around after you go behind my back. After you _betray_ me?” Shiro pushed a hand through the white fringe still stained with Thace's blood. “Where's the loyal little pet who begs to be fucked into the mattress? Where's my pet who enjoys it when I let him loose after such a stressful quintant?” Shiro's hand dropped to his side as he rose, letting Keith sag in the chains. “What happened to the man I fell in love with? I'll tell you-” Keith heard the arm activate, head bolting up so quick he could've given himself whiplash.

“-Shiro, _don't_!” The energy blade drove downwards.

“-he was too busy falling into bed with a _fucking traitor_!” The searing heat burned against Keith's cheek as the blade pierced the wall behind him. Keith screamed out, snapping his head away as far as he could, but Shiro dragged it back into place.

“I had to kill my lieutenant in front of the entire Empire.” Shiro withdrew his arm, admiring the fresh burn to Keith's cheek. “Do you know how hard it is to find someone loyal here? Do you have any comprehension of how much I've been betrayed before?” Shiro brought clawed metal fingers under Keith's chin. “ _Well?_ ”

“I-I-” those pretty eyes were beading with tears, but Shiro felt no sympathy.

“You know, and even knowing my trust issues, you broke them.” He dropped Keith's face and made for the door. “If you choose to betray me again,” Shiro cast his gaze back over the shaking man upon his knees, “your usefulness **will** expire. I'll see to you upon my return, and then after that I'm taking you to Haggar and the Druids.” He smirked at the sharp gasp, and the desperate pleas not to. Keith rightly feared them. “I'm sure Haggar can find something new to test on your body. I might humour her, let her take a limb or two. Can't have you running away again. Maybe a leg?” He mused, leaving Keith and his begging behind. Gods, he wasn't looking forward to this meeting with Haggar and the Paladins.

-

“You did well to handle the Emperor's interrogation.” Haggar stood at Shiro's side as they watched the wormhole close, the Druids taking Allura back to her confines.

“I'm grateful for your continued support.” Shiro glanced to his old mistress.

“I am protecting my work, and you have been one of my better achievements. Do not squander what you have done on nothing but a physical reminder of the past,” she turned to stare him in the eyes, “or I will see that memory is removed permanently.”

“I know you will.” Shiro paused for a moment, weighing his options. “You'll be pleased to know I threatened his life if he does it again.”

“Once is too many times so far as I am concerned, Commander Shirogane, but it is progress.” She turned back to the viewport, and the pair stared out across the rings. “I made the correct choice releasing you, but I believe you are hovering because there is something you want of me?” Haggar was as sharp and perceptive as ever. Shiro looked down at his mismatched hands again, and with a long exhale, he turned to her properly.

“The first is whether you have any experiments you wish to trial. If so, you can have Keith to do as you please. The second,” Shiro's brows knit together, “is around advice. I don't want to make the same mistake twice, but I want a Lieutenant I know will be loyal, but there are few out here I trust.” Her lips twitched into a thin smile.

“You want my advice on how to proceed?”

“I want your assistance in hiring a new one. One that isn't going to try and undermine my authority, wrongly fears you, or will attempt to take what's mine.” Shiro tried not to emphasise the latter, but it was one of importance. Haggar watched him for a few ticks, before offering a single nod.

“It is doable. I will suggest we search within my own ranks. The Emperor's loyalists, aside from Sendak, fear my capabilities,” her eyes narrowed, “and speak ill behind my back. Those who work under myself – such as you – are superior in quality and effectiveness. Bring the half-breed, and we will discuss the replacement.” She turned on her heel with the swish of her cloak. “You preformed above operational standard in the arena. Your bloodthirstiness has been missed. The humans, Altean, and half-breed shook in the Emperor's box. It was a sight to see.” She paced away down the length of the throne room, and Shiro turned to follow after her.

-

Shiro sat to the side of the operating table, originally watching when the Technicians cut Keith's leg off just above the knee, but now reading through the files of potential candidates. He paused momentarily on one, noting the slight resemblance to Haxus of all people. Shiro wondered if there was a family connection. For the most part, he was able to ignore Keith's tears or pleas. It was a lesson he had to learn, cruel as it seemed. If you play; you pay, and Keith was going to pay dearly for his indiscretions.

“At least I haven't asked them to remove your dick,” Shiro glared over at him, “if you keep whining or spitting at the Technicians, I'll ask Haggar to see if she can make you breedable. Do you want that?” Keith's terrified eyes landed on him, and Shiro watched his head thrash from side-to-side. “Good. Now shut your mouth and accept your dues. Oh, the Paladins are keeping that knife of yours, going to see if they can lure any Blades out with it. Let's hope, huh? Can't have them track you to try all over again. I'm hoping the Blades will be stupid, and go after the Paladins. They've got no hope against Voltron.” Sometimes, a part of Shiro wondered whether or not handing the super-weapon back had been worth it when the Galra owned a monopoly on the universe already, but knew that ultimately, this was all for the best. It didn't matter to him what the others thought, what the people of Earth thought when they all believed Sam, Matt, and him were dead. From Shiro's perspective, humans needed that order and subjugation; it wasn't like they weren't capable of doing that exact same thing. His eyes found the line again, brows creasing at what experience this guy had.

* * *

“So how was your interview with Commander Shirogane?” Haxus lounged back in the booth, mussing up the girl's hair much to her disapproving glare. Hepta stirred his drink, tilting his head from side to side.

“Well, Haggar was there as well. It's weird, seeing him so collected and not a bloodthirsty gladiator. There's a strange disconnect that I'm going to have to get used to.”

“Get used to, you say?” Haxus arched an eyebrow, clicking his claws at the girl. “Pass it.” Hepta watched as she huffed and pushed the glass towards him. Their eyes locked, Haxus's jaw tightening just enough for her realise she should follow the order. Eventually she did with another huff and a pout, before Haxus handed her a data pad. “Little Katie has been difficult lately. We still haven't found her brother, and Lotor is refusing to let her see her father. So, by your statement, I presume you were successful?”

“I may've been.” Hepta's lips tugged upwards into a smirk. “I've been desperate to return to operational work since the accident.” He raised his metal hands, and Haxus offered a sympathetic nod. “Haggar has asked I keep an eye on Shirogane as well.”

“In what sense?” At this, Haxus pushed himself upwards. “Is it something we need to be worried about?”

“Not really,” Hepta sipped his drink, “it's just after Thace and that half-breed pet of his betrayed him, she's worried he might make some reckless decisions. I'll see that her project doesn't self-destruct. As you know, I'd like to move up myself some quintant; just like you did.”

Haxus chuckled to himself, swirling his own drink in hand.

“I'm certain you will. Aid the High Priestess and the up-start commander, and you should find yourself welcomed into the inner social rings of Central Command. You'll receive your gift of quintessence, of a longer life, that way. You may also earn yourself especially amusing little play things.” He flicked his free hand towards Katie, who once again levelled a glower at him. She mumbled a few curses under her breath, much to their joint amusement.

“I saw Shirogane's pet. Half-breed got his leg replaced.” Hepta heard the data pad clatter to the floor, and found a fierce pair of eyes glaring bloody murder back at him.

“What did you just say?” Katie bit out, small fists curling into balls.

“The half-breed's leg has been replaced.” Hepta sniffed, levelling the same look back. “If you ask me, it was well-deserved.”

“I _didn't_ ask you.” She spat, fist striking the table. “I _really_ wished that traitor died in the arena. Keith doesn't deserve how Shiro treats him – I wish he'd gotten away!”

“Katie! You will curb that tongue of yours _or else_.” Haxus rose from his seat, towering a good few heads over her. She snapped her head up at him, bright eyes threatening to water at the sides. “Shirogane's pet deserves death. Your little friend should feel lucky he is alive – you should _all_ be lucky you are alive!”

“I'd rather be dead then be around you! You all make me sick!” Katie screamed back. Hepta watched them argue; his cousin certainly knew how to pick them.

* * *

Shiro's attention was held so much on his battle tactics he violently jerked away from the terminal, prosthetic activated, when a throat cleared from behind.

“Commander?” Hepta's ears flattened back, apparently in shock as well. His pupils flicked from the prosthetic to Shiro's own eyes; it was appreciated having someone else on board who he could read with eye movements. “I brought you this.” In his metal hand he carried a cup. Shiro looked between it and him.

“I'm sorry, Lieutenant.” He deactivated his arm and turned back to the screen. “I've got a habit of getting lost in my work.”

“It's been noted,” Hepta sidled up alongside him, watching how his brows knit close together in concentration, “that you tend to be here late into the night-cycle.”

“Is that a complaint?”

“No. Your work ethic is just as strong – if not stronger – then most Galra I know.”

“I bet that must be hard to admit.” Shiro snorted. He was well aware that his position pissed enough Galra off, and only a select few seemed to offer him the time he deserved. He'd fought just as hard as all of them to get here. “Since I'm not one of you, really.”

“You're not, but you fight like us, and you think like us, so to me that counts for something. If you asked me over a deca-phoeb ago whether I would follow the commands of the arena Champion, I would laugh.” Hepta's eyes skimmed Shiro's plans – quite thorough for a non-Galran. “You have Haggar's blessing, so to speak, and her judgement is one that the Emperor considers the most. I would be a fool to question her, and so if she approves of you, I'll suspend my opinions of non-Galra and their worth.”

“I'm going to guess you're not fond of Keith then?” Hepta planted the cup on top of the terminal with a sigh.

“No, I'm frankly not interested in you half-breed. If he's the offspring of one of the traitors, then I couldn't care less about him. Why is it _you_ care so much about him?” Hepta watched Shiro's brows twitch at the question. He took the cup in hand, blowing the steaming liquid.

“In my old life he meant a lot to me. When times were difficult with Haggar he was something I used to think about and long for. I ached for him, and I don't say it lightly considering other...losses. So when they sent me to Earth for the Blue Lion, and all the kids got caught up in this, I was at least happy he found me, because now Earth is in the Empire's hold, I know he's not dead. He's here, safe.” Shiro took a sip, features relaxing a little. “Yet I'm still angry at him.” Hepta nodded slowly. He was aware of the recording although never seen it, and knew though Haxus about what had happened with Lotor, but he could press another quintant. He wasn't going to press about the 'losses', because anyone who worked with Haggar knew about _that_ one. It'd been a few movements since Hepta came under Shiro's command, and they were still working each other out. This subject wasn't one to fully get into, and Hepta doubted Shiro would go into more detail.

“I'm aware that Haggar is concerned I'll screw up, and I can't make that mistake.” Shiro muttered, placing the cup down with a clatter. “I can't fail her after everything she's done to aid me.”

“You also need to rest. If we're caught off-guard by a surprise attack, and you're not in the right state of mind, we'd take unnecessary losses.” Hepta wanted to say that if Shiro was having issues and avoiding his little pet, then perhaps he should of left him back on Central Command instead.

“Give me half a varga and I'll go.” Shiro's fingers worked the screen, tapping at the star map. “How did you know I was on the bridge still?”

“As I said, I've noticed you stay up late.”

“Why are you up at this time?”

“I have my own issues,” Hepta rolled his prosthetic arms, “that keep me up at night. Usually I go to the observation deck to think.”

“Is it about your arms?” Shiro scrutinised Hepta carefully.

“I'll talk about it another time, I don't think I'm ready to give you that story yet.” Hepta turned on his heel, deciding he probably needed to sleep at this point too. “I'm aware you're going to be wary of me, but I promise you, I'm not like Thace was.” Hepta didn't get an answer as he left the bridge, but in time he was sure he'd hear the words he wanted.

* * *

“The intelligence was correct,” Shiro stood at attention, staring up at the screen, “we found the rebel base and captured the targets. At present Lieutenant Hepta is seeing them to their cells. No casualties have been sustained and the ship's shields held. We've extracted their data, and found a network of other bases. Would you like us to return to the main fleet, or continue hunting down this faction, Commander Sendak?”

“Return to the main fleet.” Shiro could sense Sendak's attention flicking to Keith at his heel. “Why is _it_ on the bridge? It has no business knowing of the Empire's work.”

“With all due respect, Commander, I have him on the bridge to show him what we are capable of.” Shiro was aware Sendak _really_ didn't like Keith, and Keith hated him just as much for usurping the Red Lion's connection. “It's to teach him that no one can run and hide from the Empire.” Sendak's penetrating gaze came back to rest upon him. There was something still about Sendak he'd never really gotten over. Shiro couldn't explain what it was, but maybe it was in the way he just never seemed to be able to budge Sendak's opinion on him; how the guy would always make reference to his mistakes with Lotor or when he was so _wrong_ in trying to protect others, when he always suffered tenfold.

“I see.” Sendak leaned back in his seat. “It is pleasing to see you complete your duties effectively. I would like you to send me the battle report. I want a full description on what your tactics and methods included, and a rationale for each decision. Is that understood?”

“Crystal, Commander.” Shiro brought his arm across his chest. “Vrepit Sa.”

“Vrepit Sa.” The transmission cut, and Shiro let out a sigh of relief. He carded his fingers through Keith's unruly hair, teasing his nails over the scalp. “I think this is worth celebrating, don't you think so? I'll get the meats you liked back in again.” He peered down at Keith's frame huddled against his thigh, new burns peeping out between the sheer fabric. “We can drink again like we used to. I miss being close with you.”

“I miss that too. I promise,” Keith mumbled, “I won't ever do it again.”

“I know you won't.” Keith was silent, but nodded his head up and down. Leaning down, Shiro scooped his pet up into his arms, their prosthetics clattering against each other.

* * *

Following their recent string of successful operations over the last five and a half phoebs, Hepta decided he was going to get their damn Commander to actually come out to celebrate. They'd finally captured Ozar and the remnants of his group; they'd captured _alive_ one of the Empire's most wanted, and even found information regarding potential benefactors whether it was with arms or ships. It was exciting times indeed. Shiro had a habit of celebrating on the bridge with them, but when it came to bonding and breeding the loyalty he probably _wanted_ , he was pretty bad at it. Hepta figured it was probably down to being around Haggar for so long he'd picked up her anti-social tendencies, but upon digging here and there when Shiro would willingly open up, he was starting to comprehend just how obsessive he was over the damn pet, that looked permanently exhausted or miserable most of the time. It also made him feel like he was letting Haggar down when he updated her, as well as his Commander. It was strange being in the position he was in, but the harder Shirogane was to crack, the more _he_ wanted to keep pressing. Hepta knocked metal knuckles against the door to Shiro's quarters, pulling out his communicator while he waited.

“Lieutenant? Are you here to discuss work?”

When Hepta glanced down, he blinked, then blinked again. Shiro had...clearly just came from the shower, and Hepta was a bit taken aback by the sheer volume of scarring. He knew that experimentation happened considering his placement on the old Project Kuron, but _seeing_ it in person was different to reading about it.

“No,” he relaxed himself, averting his eyes, “do you want to put clothes on or-”

“It's fine.” Shiro motioned him inside. “I'm sure you saw _that_ anyway.”

“The recording?” His ears twitched at the derisive snort. _That's a yes then._ “No, I haven't.”

“You don't have to lie,” Shiro dropped down to the sofa, “the whole fucking Empire saw it.”

“Well, I didn't.” Hepta shrugged his shoulders, surprised the damn pet wasn't lounging somewhere nearby. He couldn't hear the bastard thing. “Nor have I ever wanted to.” Shiro just studied him from the couch, before letting his head loll backwards.

“Why?”

“Because it doesn't interest me in the slightest, and as my commanding officer, my job is to support you and offer input in any capacity. I want you to succeed.”

“Because of Haggar, or your own agenda?” Shiro brought his attention back to him. “Because I am tired of being used for others to make gains off me, Lieutenant. I don't want to feel like I failed her or be in that same position I was in back at the start.” Hepta met his look, and with a long sigh, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Sure, I want to progress to one quintant commanding my own ship, but like I said before, I'm not going to do what Thace did to you. If anything, _I'm_ worried about you. You don't join me and the rest of the crew properly, and you're not going to do yourself any favours. Haggar's concerned you're going to bring yourself to ruin over that pet of yours, and sometimes I'm in agreement. Care about the damn thing all you want, but there's more to him in the universe. We need to know you consider us as important.” He scrubbed at his face. “I get if you think I'm over-stepping my boundaries, and I was going to ask if you wanted to come out and celebrate with us for all the success we had of late, but we need to be able to trust each other, and right now it feels like you're taking and not giving, and I don't think that's right.”

It was Shiro's turn to blink as Hepta glared down at the floor, as if awaiting a scolding. This was...different to what he'd experienced before. Thace had been polite and agreeable, or guiding when he wanted something. Shiro never wanted to experience that again, sure, but he was still failing in his stubbornness.

“I should go-”

“Stay where you are, Lieutenant.” Shiro pushed himself from the sofa, hitching the towel up a little to a look of confusion on Hepta's face. “I can say it a thousand times, but you made a correct assessment.” Shiro wrinkled his nose. “To be better, I need to know my shortcomings. I need to take apart and assess the damage that was done, my own issues, and not direct those at you. I'm also not...used to being invited anywhere still, or someone being that blunt with me who isn't Haggar or Sendak. I'm angry at myself.” He didn't particularly want to talk about Keith at present, the man still probably curled in the fetal position back on the bed. He was always nursing the scar over his cheek these quintants, sometimes mumbling incoherently to himself. If Shiro did go out, he wondered if Keith would even notice. “Fuck it.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I'll go get changed. I think you're right.” He watched a rather genuine-looking smile form on Hepta's lips.

“The crew will be happy.”

“Is there anywhere in particular we're going?” Shiro moved towards the bedroom, hovering by the door frame.

“There's a bar snuggled away on Central Command. Drinks are cheap and the music is loud. It's not been my thing in a long time, but the crew want to just let go while we have shore leave.”

“We're going to a nightclub?”

“What the fuck is a 'nightclub'?” Hepta arched a brow, and Shiro remembered for a tick that the Galra weren't always familiar with Earth-terminology. He thought for a tick, maybe he _could_ take Keith, but then he was never fond of loud places, and Shiro didn't want to bring down the night or atmosphere. No, Keith could stay here. He'd just make sure he was locked in and anything that he _could_ use to harm himself or weaponise was out of reach. Just as a precautionary measure.

-

The lights flashed and the strange electronic music pounded and vibrated in Shiro's gut. This was a far cry from the labs or long nights pouring over details on the bridge alone, or with Hepta's occasional company. If anything, it reminded Shiro of those lost teenage years back on Earth when he'd go out to bars, get drunk beyond belief, and end up doing someone in the bathroom or an alleyway, or in the case with Tex, either his truck or a motel room. His navigator, Farak, came back to their booth with an array of colourful glasses with the toothiest grin on his face Shiro had ever seen. Some of the crew were in the sea of bodies, lost to the music and drunk already, while those over at the table were at merry at best. Shiro was trying to show some level of restraint as their commanding officer, but when the tray was set down and almost half the glasses double the size of a human shot glass were pushed in front of him, Shiro couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips.

“I can't,” he looked around at the grinning and expectant faces, “guys, seriously. Don't kill my liver. I kinda need it.”

“Oh _come on_ ,” Farak dumped himself back into the booth, distributing the others around the table, “you're always so tightly wound, Commander, and like,” he hiccuped, “you need to unwind. We'll carry you home if we have to, sir.” Farak's ears twitched as he hiccuped again.

“I'll give you a hand,” Hepta smirked as he reached for a glass, pushing a bright pink one towards Shiro, “in solidarity with our Commander here, who's lead us to... _many several victories_ ,” Hepta thrust the glass in the air, “Lieutenant orders you to drink now.” The group necked their glasses, and Shiro, in defeat, drank his down. As he set the glass to the table, he absently licked his lips.

“What is this?” Shiro had to shout at Farak. “It tastes good!”

“I dunno, sir, it's a drink that's pink and gets your drunk. It's alcoholic!”

“I gathered as much, Farak!” Shiro absently pushed another glass to Hepta, who glanced at him and it. Shiro leaned up closer. “In solidarity, right?” Hepta looked to him, light catching his pupils, and gave a wide smirk back.

As the night went on, between shouting over the music and consuming more alcohol, Shiro's typically reserved and professional disposition crumbled away. He was much more candid in reply as well; which was both good _and_ bad when he'd started to get into the details of _what_ Haggar had actually done. It wasn't like Hepta's own hands weren't covered in blood either; but listening to the details about Shiro and Ulaz's relationship, and then having to kill him after the failed escape attempt...well, Hepta was certain he understood why Shiro was possessive when it came to his pet. Hepta hadn't killed a lover before – love wasn't really his thing, just a string of casual relationships that did the job when hormones ran high – but that was slightly sad. Ulaz was a great Technician, it just sucked he also killed his own people and fought against the Empire. Shit happened, he supposed. Though listening to Shiro as he spoke, Hepta was pretty certain he was pretending to make it sound easy. His last job would've taught him that, which Hepta had shamelessly forgotten for some unknown reason.

“Lu-Leew...” Shiro played with the word on his tongue, “Hepta, why're ya starin' at me?” Shiro blinked, vision a _bit_ blurred as he brought his head round too quickly.

“Thinkin'.”

“'bout what?” Shiro scooted himself over the seat, pulling the new collection of shots with him as the others ran off to the dance floor. Gods, this was so fucking weird. Galra nightclubs on Central Command; the universe was full of weird wonders.

“You.” Hepta's head rolled to the side, pupils big and round as they stared down at him.

“Why?”

“Cause,” he rolled a metal shoulder, “actually talkin' to us? It's nice? I forgot you did murder time and I dunno why?”

“Murder time?” Shiro wondered what- _oh_. “Arena? How'd you,” that was a weird thing to forget, “ _how_?”

“I don't _know_ ,” Hepta whined almost petulantly, “I was legit just, not really stationed here? Saw broadcasts,” he knocked back one of the shots, “know you better this way and through notes.”

“Notes?”

“Old job. Project Kuron,” Hepta leaned closer, breath hot against his ear, “was supposed to be like, if you died but you didn't die and I guess that's really good? When Haggar was really worried but now she went no, no more project, and then I was on another one and it _sucked_.” Shiro should probably ask more questions, but he was too caught up in Hepta's strange pointy ears. Lifting his metal hand, he wobbled the tip of the closest one. There was probably cartilage under the surface, but he could feel muscle under the soft.

“What?” Hepta's metal fingers curled around his wrist, and Shiro was vaguely aware of what his hand was doing. They stared at each other for what felt like forever, scent of alcohol rife between them.

“Need a piss.” Shiro slurred, stumbling over his own feet as he pushed himself from the booth.

It was Farak and a few others that pulled Hepta and Shiro to the dance floor with them. It was cramped, and hot, and even in the shirt Shiro was in, he was sweltering. It was a little like the arena in that it was full of Galra, other aliens, and the stuffiness. The only difference; was that he wasn't dusting sand from places he had no idea _how_ it got there, or legally allowed to gut anyone came within a three-foot radius, let alone grind against his hips, and a court martial wasn't something he wanted. What he didn't expect, was one of the engineers stepping in and shoving the _massive_ guy behind him away with a flash of teeth. Shiro couldn't hear what he said over the music, but drunk or not, the others were here and...he felt something knot in his chest. This was a feeling sober Shiro could think about in the morning, especially when the crowd shunted the group about as the music built, and Shiro was squeezed through a gap away from the bridge crew, and into the stomach of someone else. Tilting his up, Shiro was grateful to find familiar eyes staring back. Hepta and Shiro were shunted about again, and it was easier to just do what he used to as a teen.

Hepta blinked when Shiro guided his hands around his waist. He arched a brow, and vaguely understood the words; something about not getting lost. When the crowds shifted again, the gap separating their bodies was gone; groin pressed flush against the small of Shiro's back. The music built the tension as they stared each other out, bodies knocked and ground against each other by the movements of others. Hepta swallowed. Shiro's lips parted. With a breath catching in his lungs, Hepta felt Shiro's hands unhook his, and lead them to his waist. Hepta squeezed the fabric and muscle, and by the twitch in Shiro's lips, skin bathed in a deep ultra-violet light, Hepta let one hand tentatively slip to his hip. In response Shiro ground himself against Hepta's groin. He answered with a soft moan and the action returned. There was an almost mischievous look in Shiro's eyes as he ground against Hepta again, as if asking for this to escalate. Lacking common sense and buzzing from the atmosphere and the alcohol, Hepta found himself grabbing Shiro's hips tighter and canting himself forwards.

Time slipped away but the heat and friction between them only increased. Hepta's metal fingers dragged up the length of Shiro's torso, and Shiro pressed himself harder into his body, leading the hand that remained on his hip to the front of his trousers. Hepta's fingers brushed what was restrained behind the fabric, and then with a chuckle in his ear, groped. Shiro couldn't remember the last time he'd felt this elated or happy as he arched his back and pushed his hand around the back of Hepta's neck. The hand over his chest drew up under his head, tilting it upwards. Shiro pulled Hepta forward, their pupils locked again. Hepta grinned, and with no warning spun Shiro around, bringing him in with eagerness. One hand caught his jaw, and the other slipped down his back. It pushed past the hem of his trousers, then down further to squeeze his ass cheek as lips met in a sugar-sweet kiss. Time stopped. Shiro groaned against the tongue that pushed past his lips, and while one hand found the back of Hepta's skull, the other grabbed his waist for purchase. Shiro latched one leg around Hepta's thigh, drawing them closer, and let every reservation crack. This was the most excitement he'd had in phoebs, and it spurred him to chase whatever this was.

-

Hepta pressed Shiro up against the door. Sharp teeth found his bottom lip as a metal hand pinned both his wrists above his head. Shiro was more than happy to surrender, as Hepta's metal thumb pushed under the hem of his trousers, tugging him in closer. The friction of fabric and Hepta's body rutting did nothing to alleviate the tightness in his trousers, and for every grind of their bodies and muffled whimpers and gasps, Shiro wanted more. The grip loosened, and on unstable feet, Shiro pushed himself from the door as the kiss broke, lips messy but who cared. Shiro backed Hepta up into the sofa, and with a grunt Hepta, fell into the plush material. Metal fingers found Shiro's hips as Hepta roughly pulled him on top, and in gratitude Shiro rolled his hips, hands planted firm against Hepta's chest.

“Fuck.” Hepta breathed, dragging his hands up Shiro's sides and the material with it, before tossing it somewhere behind Shiro. Hepta forced himself up with a laugh, pulling Shiro closer. He grabbed Shiro's hip and placed another hand between his shoulder blades, tongue licking a stripe from Shiro's chest up to his neck. Shiro cursed as teeth found the skin, as they grazed and Hepta hungrily nipped and sucked.

Hepta pushed Shiro down into the sofa but kept his eager assault on Shiro's neck and collarbone up. Metal fingers roamed over the skin, tracing the deep arena and medical scars across his chest and down over his abdomen, until fingers pushed between the hem of his trousers, brushing the tip of his constrained cock. Shiro moaned out as Hepta drew wet lines across his chest, as they found his nipple and fingers worked further under the fabric.

“S'good?” Hepta all but purred as those cool fingers smeared the pre over the skin.

“Yeah.” Shiro slurred, head falling to the side as he kicked off his shoes. “Didn't...this.”

“Mmm.” Hepta sucked the skin again, and Shiro didn't hide the moan as teeth found his nipple. He arched upwards, writhing at how Hepta teased him, and grabbed blindly until fingers pushed through soft fur. Shiro pushed Hepta's head down against the skin, and his lieutenant seemed to grasp the unspoken order. Shiro didn't know how long it'd been since had attention like this; usually it was him giving unless he was stressed out. Shiro'd inject Keith to just go at him, but it always felt like a chore or going through the motions. This was a far cry from that.

Hepta kicked his own shoes off as he worked the zip of Shiro's trousers. As Hepta pulled away for air, he stumbled off the sofa with a pleased hum at what lay underneath. With a grin that he knew was all teeth, Hepta grabbed and pulled the offending clothes away. He dropped to his knees a bit too quickly, and fumbled with Shiro's legs until they were tucked over each shoulder. Humans were never something he considered his thing, but Hepta could allow for minor exceptions, and his commander was one of them. He nipped and sucked more bruises along Shiro's thighs; his own cock strained by the fabric and a heady, hungry burning in his gut that burned brighter the further this went. Hepta was going to make certain Shiro remembered tonight as he fumbled with his own trousers, as he leaned over and took Shiro in his mouth.

Shiro sang a string of curses as Hepta's mouth went to work. He watched through the drunken haze as his thighs shook, as Hepta hollowed his cheeks when he got to the base. Shiro keened, gripping him between his shaking thighs, as he tried to thrust upwards. Hepta chuckled around his cock as he wiggled about, until he finally got back to sucking, and all Shiro could do was arch upwards; moans rolling off his tongue, nails dragging against the fabric like he could shred it. Metal hands grabbed his hips again, and Shiro let Hepta have control, let him throat-fuck himself to his hearts content. It felt good – more than good.

“F-Fuck, _please_. N-Need- _ah_.” A finger brushed against his aching entrance. “There, _there_.”

“Sssure?” Hepta slurred as he came off with a wet pop, tongue teasing tiny circles against the tip. Shiro nodded a bit too sharply, raising his rear from the sofa in desperation.

Hepta gave Shiro a few more fleeting sucks, before pushing his thighs back against Shiro's chest and pulling his hips clean off the sofa. When that tongue brushed against his entrance, Shiro all but cried out in need. Through stuttered pleas for more, Hepta simply complied and went the extra mile. His body was hot, damp and sweat-sticky, but he didn't care as Hepta helped him come undone. Drool tricked from the corner of his mouth down his cheek, and Shiro could see the spit and pre smeared over his skin. When Hepta's finger – two fingers – brushed and teased against his entrance, Shiro tried so desperately to get them in to no avail. For that, Hepta's tongue slipped past the ring and up inside. The noise that tore from Shiro's throat burned. He bucked and writhed; ever-increasing heat and desperation fuelling his desires.

When Hepta finally pulled away panting, he watched Shiro's chest heave and noted the way the blood painted the pale skin a pretty red colour. With a wobble, he pushed himself up and pulled himself from his own clothes. Hepta rolled his metal shoulders with a groan, and then something more heady escaped his lips when Shiro's mouth attached itself around his cock. He glanced down, noting those grey pupils looking up at him with need and want. Hepta wasn't going to say no to this, and pushed his hands through the black and white hair, slowly thrusting in at first, but watching all the same. It felt good when Shiro's tongue dipped between the ridges on the underside, and then worked its way round to the others. His grip tightened, and with a hum of some form, Hepta took that to mean fuck harder. So he did. For every squeak or groan Shiro made, Hepta went just a little bit faster, a little bit rougher, until he pulled away and got the satisfaction of seeing the thick trails of spit snap. It was then he snapped; gods, he needed more.

It took his lieutenant little time to flip and position Shiro roughly over the back of the sofa, and even less time to ease himself in with a groan. Shiro felt his weight come over the top of him, teeth catching his earlobe, and with a pleasure-pain burn, all those ridges fucked Shiro up in the best of ways.

“S-Shit!” Shiro hissed, brow tensing, then relaxing, as Hepta sunk down and settled. The stretch was good – great – _amazing_. “Need it, _need it_.”

“Betso, 'mander.” Hepta roughly whispered as he slipped one hand around Shiro's neck, and the other around his aching cock. The grip wasn't tight on either; just enough to notice but not enough to damage, but hot as fuck nonetheless. When Hepta pulled out almost all the way, then slammed back in with enough force to make the sofa squeak and move, Shiro screamed in pleasure.

“A-Again- _ah_!” He cried out as Hepta did the same again, just a little harder. It was good. So. Fucking. Good. Every nerve in his body was on fire and his sight was a blurred and giddy mess as Hepta fucked him over and over without hesitation. The metal hand worked his cock and drove him wild, while the grip around his neck grew tighter, then released. It had Shiro gasping and panting for more, and the only way he could do that was snap his hips backwards. The sofa creaked, the sound of their bodies striking, and joint desperate moans filled Shiro's ears, along with his own heartbeat hammering in his ears like the pounding music from earlier.

Shiro whined far too childishly when Hepta pulled out, but with a grunt, Hepta flipped him back round and dragged him from the sofa. He pushed Shiro up against the wall, and with a soft groan, hoisted his superior officer up. Shiro hissed and arched against the cold as Hepta found the angle again. He seated Shiro carefully down on his cock to mutual groans. Their eyes met again; drunk dusty hazes making this so easy. Hepta took those swollen alcohol-sweet lips back in his as he fucked Shiro up against the wall, metal hands cupping and spreading those toned cheeks. Watching the muscles ripple under the scarred skin had been enjoyable, and then as sweat beaded down his back; all of this told Hepta he was doing a good job.

“Feel ssooo gooood.” He panted against Shiro's lips, and Shiro tensed his insides in reply.

“Saaaame.” Shiro's hand caught his jaw, while the other slipped down between their bodies. Hepta arched a brow when he started fisting himself. The two shared a stupid laugh before kissing again, Hepta snapping his hips up in time to all of Shiro's rolls. The pair worked up a delicious rhythm, until it was Shiro who broke first, coming over his hand and spilling over both their stomachs. Hepta hissed through his teeth, and with a snarl, ground Shiro into the wall and just fucked him with abandon. His commander screamed, then screamed his name, and after the fifth cry, Hepta came. He planted his forehead against the wall besides Shiro's head, thick and heavy panting the only noise between them.

-

“Are you awake?”

Shiro groaned, head pounding, as he shifted from the warm pillow he was resting on. He realised that pillow was Hepta's chest, and the reason he couldn't move his leg was because it was trapped between Hepta's.

“Mmm...wait, Hepta? What- _oh_.” As he rose and looked down at himself, Shiro realised just how naked the pair were, how covered his skin was in bites and bruises, and how it was stained with dried come. Shiro swallowed, then coughed, at how raw and painful his throat felt. “We...”

“Y-Yeah. I, uh, I'm sorry, Shiro-”

“You...don't need to apologise,” Shiro groaned, de-tangling their limbs and shifting to the edge of the bed, “I need to go.”

“I know.” Hepta's voice was just as hoarse, and he groaned as he sat up too. “I didn't intend for this to happen.”

“Neither did I. Do you,” the memory was bleary but there, “remember anything?”

“Mhmm. It was...good. Better then expected.” There was a long pause. “You?” Shiro thought for a few long moments. It _had_ been good; really good, but in admitting that he had to consider how and what this meant with his relationship with Keith. Even if he was Shiro's pet, he'd always been content with just him, but something felt like it was missing, and he couldn't place what exactly that was until now. He was missing emotion, passion; things that Haggar didn't care for, and feelings that Shiro'd abandoned when they no longer worked for him. Being around Keith had brought what tattered remains to the surface, but something always felt _off_.

“It's been the best thing I've had in a really long time. I think I,” he wet his lips as he tilted his head around, “needed that.”

“I hope that this hasn't changed your perceptions of me,” Hepta mumbled, fiddling with his metal hands, “I understand if you need to punish me for my indiscretions.”

“Why would I do that? You're not Keith.” He watched Hepta raise his metal hands with a bark of laughter.

“No, but that's what happened the last time. I call it an 'accident' because I'm ashamed of myself, but a while back I misread my old commander, and I initiated...and he wasn't too happy about that. So for my punishment, he took my hands and sense of touch along with it.”

“I'm not going to do that. If I'd wanted you to stop, I would've made it clear.” Shiro turned around fully, easing his metal hand over Hepta's if he was remembering how to comfort right. “You gave me something I clearly wanted and needed, and I'm glad, I guess, you enjoyed it, even if I'm not Galra.”

“I think you're my only exception.” Hepta pushed their fingers together. “It was good – to see you enjoy yourself as well last night.”

“It was nice. It felt...appreciated, being wanted and having the others look out for me, even though it should be me who looks out for you. That's my job.”

“We're your crew, and we're loyal to _you_. We're not going to let our Commander get dragged away by strangers who want to do gods knows what to you. You can't trust anyone out here, but I hope you can trust us – trust me.” Something in Shiro's chest ached of all things at Hepta's words, and perhaps a chat with Haggar was in order. Hopefully he wasn't ill, or maybe it was the hangover.

“I think I can finally believe you, when you say you really aren't like Thace was.” Shiro offered Hepta's hand a small squeeze.

-

“I am surprised to see you without the half-breed at your heel, and looking like a complete state this early in the morning.” Sendak stalked over to Shiro. He'd seen Sendak enough in his Paladin armour; not dissimilar to his old armour when he was just a commander. Black with red highlights, and small golden glows like the eyes of the Lion's on the pauldrons. Shiro, through the throbbing pain in his skull, stood to attention, until Sendak waved his hand with disinterest.

“I'm going home. My Lieutenant brought to my attention I had not been...fraternising with the crew to build the right type of loyalty.”

“You have been putting the pet above your duty to your crew.” Sendak replied, as blunt as ever. “Your possessiveness and obsession with it will be your downfall if you are not careful. Although,” Sendak pushed his organic claws under Shiro's chin, tilting his head from side to side with a twitch of his lips, “perhaps your Lieutenant has also brought that to your attention?”

“W-What _exactly_ are you suggesting?” Shiro jerked away, rubbing his neck where the claws had been.

“You know what I suggest.” Sendak stepped around Shiro. Shiro did, but he didn't _want_ Sendak seeing him like this, because no doubt he'd report his observations to Haggar.

“Do you always go to the Red Lion this early?” Shiro finally asked, hoping to change the subject. He heard Sendak stop.

“Yes. I want to be the best support possible for our Emperor in battle, and my skills can always be sharpened further. I am his sword, and as that, I must never dull.”

“What's it like; flying them I mean?” Shiro turned his head to find Sendak staring back at him. Sendak considered the question, brow creasing in thought, maybe, it was always hard to tell when he looked pissed off so much.

“At first it was strange hearing the Red Lion in my mind, as well as the connection with the others. However it normalises with time. Flying the Red Lion is a pleasure; her quick movements and purifying fire that burns our enemies from existence. She is temperamental, but then-”

“So are you.” Shiro snorted, and Sendak chuckled to himself.

“I will allow you that assessment of my character. Before I forget, Commander Shirogane,” Sendak turned his head away, “your recent strategies and tactics have been acceptable. In some cases, I have been mildly impressed.”

“Thank you.” Shiro wasn't sure if he was dreaming at the moment. This and earlier didn't feel real. “Coming from you, that speaks volumes.”

“I expect you to continue to improve, become sharper. Do not let yourself dull because of your ties to the past.” On that note, Sendak paced away. “It is unbecoming of someone of your rank to be seen in that state. Learn discretion.” Shiro went to speak, but shut his mouth. With a sigh, he continued on his way back home.

To see Keith at the door, was a surprise, and another was how he grabbed Shiro upon entry.

“Where have you _been_?” His voice was laced with panic. This was the most emotive Shiro had seen him in...ages, anger non-withstanding.

“I told you last night,” Shiro started slowly, “I said I was going out with the crew, when you were curled up on the bed like normal.”

“You said you'd be back at a decent time!” Keith shouted. “I was worried that something had happened to you! That you'd abandoned me!” He grabbed Shiro's shoulders, those eyes full of pain and hurt.

“I'm aware of your abandonment issues already, but you don't have to lie and say you were worried.” Shiro pushed him off with a sigh, knowing that Keith's eyes had just found the marks. His head pre-emptively ached, awaiting the verbal onslaught.

“You say you won't abandon me,” Keith's pupils slit, “yet months later, after being a _monster_ about how I slept with Thace, you're now going off now and playing around? You're just going to replace me, aren't you?”

“You're being paranoid.” Shiro rubbed his forehead. “It wasn't that I actively even meant this to happen, it just did. Unlike _you_ , I didn't pretend everything was fine.”

“So do I get to stab you now or cut your leg off?”

“No, don't be ridiculous. You're a pet, you don't have power here. You know that-” Keith lunged, clawing his sharp nails into the side of Shiro's face with a snarl. In the dull light of the room, the yellow burned brighter, Shiro thought.

“You _wondered_ why I wanted to leave? I wanted to get away from you, from _this_! At least Thace gave me what you refuse to; support, actual love, and he treated me like a person! I wasn't some piece of meat to be used or like some... _fucking machine_ for your personal enjoyment!” Keith's spit rained hot against Shiro's cheeks. “ _He_ never weaponised my feelings against me! _He_ didn't leave me confused or trying to justify how I feel! Do you know _how disgusting_ I feel every time you use me? How I wrestle with knowing the only reason I get aroused is because I can't help but still hang on to these,” Keith motioned aggressively with his hands at himself, “feelings I have to you. You're using my nature against me – _you're playing me_ – and you get off on that! You call it love, but _I_ call it abuse!” Keith clenched his fists tightly, unsure why Shiro wasn't rising to this at all. Usually he would, and Keith would be in extreme agony for talking out of line. “I lie and fake it because I want you to get off me as quick as possible. You're like poison that's killing me, and I _hate_ this. I hate being some...fucking half-breed- _Earth_ treated me better then this! _Earth_! _I hated people, Shiro, and I miss them!_ ”

“You think I haven't realised you're pretending?” Shiro muttered, expression devoid of any emotion at all. “I know what pretending looks like, Keith. I've worn plenty of faces to get by. Don't talk to me like I don't understand what you're doing. You think I enjoy fucking you when you just lay there and do nothing; no noise, no anything, and then you curl up and away. Why do you think I even went out?” He caught both of Keith's wrists, grip painfully fight. “Why do you think I stay up late and work? Some quintants I don't want to even look at you when you're curled up sniffling to yourself. All I wanted was to keep you safe because I love – loved – you, but now, clearly, it seems this isn't going to work. You can feign worry all you want, but don't lie to me.”

“I can't be around you – you're suffocating.” It hurt to say it. It really hurt because he couldn't fucking keep going on like this. He couldn't run, barely saw the others, and had no support. This wasn't a life – this was torture. “Let me go.”

“You have no where _to_ go.” Shiro replied.

“Then throw me to the arena.”

“Don't say what you don't mean. The arena would be suicide. You have _no idea_ -” Keith barked a deranged laugh, eyes flashing.

“Maybe that's what I want? Maybe your fucked-up sense of cold love has messed me up just enough I want to recklessly dive back in to everything unhealthy I used to love. You stole my life, changed me to how _you_ saw fit, but remember,” Keith pointed to his small fangs, “I'm half-Galra. I'm sure this little half-breed will last longer then you or they could ever dream of! If I die, well,” Keith snorted, “I'd never have to be around you again. There's nothing in this universe worth living for. You chose them over us. If you loved me, you'd leave, you'd be better, but you're not.”

Shiro shoved Keith to the ground, activating his hand as he stood over him. The blade crackled and buzzed as he levelled it against Keith's throat.

“This is the most I've seen from my little spitfire since the first time.” His lips tugged upwards into something unpleasant looking. “So are you hoping if you burn your bridges now, it'll make it easier? You think life will be simple in the arena? You think you have what it takes to cut down countless innocent aliens who're in the same position as you? It's victory or death in there, just like anything else. I can't tell which one you want.”

“Whatever one keeps me away from you. You've betrayed my trust again and again. No more.”

“Then ultimately,” Shiro sighed heavily, “you seek death.” The idea of watching Keith die by anyone else's hand made his stomach curdle, if not for the fact he still loved his little pet, but because it would probably hurt just as much as when he had to kill Ulaz. It was one of the few memories that still haunted him, still woke him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night. He could try and reason with Keith, but the boy had always been stubborn and single-minded when he was angry. Yet, there was only so much of this toxicity that he and Keith could take.

“Fine.” Shiro deactivated the arm, and grabbed Keith by the collar. “If you want to leave, I'll toss you to the arena.” With a grunt, he hoisted Keith up. This was unexpected, and put Keith on edge as Shiro looked down at him, expression shifting to something softer. Keith still flinched when those fingers found his jaw, and he glowered up at Shiro, noting the red lines where he'd scratched into his face. “Just,” the movement was quick and the pain burst through Keith's body like he'd been shot, “when I'm done with you.” Keith coughed spit to the floor as he collapsed, grasping his gut tightly. The bastard was _still_ playing with him! He tried to slash or push or bite as Shiro bore down over him, but when Shiro caught Keith around his neck, forearm pressed against his throat, Keith could only claw and the metal desperately. To the sound of soft soothing hushes, Keith's consciousness left him.

**Author's Note:**

> I legit feel bad for killing off Thace and Ulaz. Honestly? The entire situation is sad and miserable and OH MY GOD THE SHEITH. I'm sorry, but also, I'm not. I think their arguments would be literal hell, because Shiro and Keith know each other so well, canonically speaking, and if they were in a heated argument? It'd hurt them both so, so much. So though it is so badly unhealthy in this fic, I tried to take that and make it worse because the softness that they have is really not here. Shiro's almost emotionally bankrupt thanks to Haggar.
> 
> I'll start on the shendak after dinner, but CHRIST. Thank you all for reading!


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